


Jimmy

by 2broke4shoppingaddiction



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, I Outdo Myself With Every Post, I Started Angst And Now I Cant Stop, i dont know what else to put, just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2broke4shoppingaddiction/pseuds/2broke4shoppingaddiction
Summary: You have a code name for your favorite profiler in your journal. That probably doesn't help, since the descriptions make it obvious as to who it is about. Good thing your journal almost never leaves your sight.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	Jimmy

• today, Jimmy gave an interesting statistic on divorce. gay couples are least likely to divorce. I wonder how he knows that. he seems to know everything about everything. •

I sat on the jet, writing away about my "Jimmy." coming back from a case always made me feel better, as I got homesick easily, and I had lots to write about in my journal since I rarely had time while we were on a case.

and oblivious "Jimmy" sat just a few seats over, reading. like he always did. I've seen him write a couple times, but I never bothered to ask what about. because then he would have good reason to ask what I write about during this downtime.

and although my code name for Reid should help to hide the identity of my obsession in my journal, the extreme descriptions screamed boy genius. 

I'm not sure why I continued with the code name, maybe to make myself feel better about my feelings. if I never explicitly wrote his name, then it can't be about him. it didn't take long for me to come up with a substitute name. Jimmy, short for Jimmy Neutron. I've never seen the show, but this made me want to start watching it.

"looking studious, (y/f/n), ghostwriting my new book?" asked Rossi. 

I shook my head and smiled. 

"no, just some light writing. nothing extensive or deep enough to ever be featured in one of the famous Mr. Rossi's novels."

"about eighty seven percent of prepubescents keep a diary or journal of some sort, and often times that carries on to adulthood," Reid cut in.

"who said it was a journal or diary?" I asked, testing his knowledge to see just how much he knew of my habit. 

"I can't think of much else it could be," he said thoughtfully, pressing his lips tightly together.

he was always so expressive with his lips. I should mention that in my journal. 

I went back to writing.

•it sucks that he thinks he knows everything, even if he does. but there's a couple things he doesn't know, at least. and one of those things was how much I noticed his perfect lips. full, and a great shade of pink, they were more expressive than the words that glided out of his mouth. •

I decided to stop there. I was starting to become some sort of poet, and this was no poetry. this was hard and fast adoration that could be described as creepy. 

~~~~~

"no cases so far, but I feel one coming up because of what was found in an alleyway earlier," Garcia said hurriedly, walking into the bullpen where everyone was working on their paperwork. 

"what happened?" I asked, I was always a curious person. 

setting down a file on my desk, she continued: "not one, not two, not even three, but four bodies in an alleyway, all shot with the same gun, a .44."

looking at the pictures, I couldn't help but notice something in the background, something I've seen dozens of times since moving to Virginia.

"is that the side of Lucky's Tavern? that's just downtown."

"yes," Garcia nodded, "right in our backyard, that's why local P.D wants to take care of it. it might be dropped in our empty, but fabulous laps soon, since they already have their hands full with all those home invasions."

"just shy of a mass shooting," Reid got up from his desk and hovered over my shoulder, looking at the papers: "normally, a shooting occurs at a school, workplace, church, or other public place. but a secluded alley?"

he continued to fuss over the paperwork, steadying one hand on the back of my chair, as his arm crossed in front of me to paw through the pictures and info. his cologne was intoxicating, and I could bet anything his close proximity was making me blush like mad.

I had written about this moment countless times, I recalled.

• I hate being so close to him, on the off chance that he's actually a mind reader and can hear what I'm thinking about. which pretty much only included him, and his beautiful brown hair. but I also loved being close to him, even though it made me nervous to have someone so perfect so close. •

"no one heard anything? no gun shots?" I was finally able to manage.

"nope, that's why they're thinking a silencer," Reid answered, noticing the detail on the police report.

he finally grabbed a couple papers and stood back up.

"victimology is easy," he added, "all of them were friends that frequented the bar, according to eyewitness statements that saw them come in all the time."

"and with that, I'm going to comfort myself in my liar. my unicorn figurine collection awaits. I go to that bar all the time, I've probably even seen..." Garcia trailed off as she walked away with a little less pep in her step.

I watched her walk away and didn't notice Morgan join in.

"so we're looking for a group annihilator," the muscular profiler noted.

"we're not even on the case yet," I reminded him.

"oh, come on," Morgan said soothingly, "you really want to sit and do paperwork? besides, this'll give you something to write in that diary of yours."

I huffed: "it's not a diary."

I was determined to get back on the topic of the case if it meant not talking about me, so I said: "maybe it's a statement about mom and pop shops? and they were victims of opportunity. I personally love small businesses, but maybe there's someone out there who doesn't feel that way?"

I don't know why that term of 'diary' made me so angry, maybe the term 'journaling' sounded more academic, while 'writing in a diary' sounded more like a fourteen year old girl. 

~~~~~

•Jimmy tried to hop on the case almost immediately. that's honestly like him, always trying to do good and solve things quickly so he can move onto the next case. it helps that he's really smart, but the weird thing is, I don't even see him as a nerd. just a really smart, attractive guy. •

we did end up called on the case, but at least we weren't going to have to fly anywhere. no one got jet lag anymore, except for me. and I hated it. I enjoyed the weird dreams about Reid, of course, but I hated sleeping. there was so much I could be doing instead.

one of my favorite dreams was detailed in one of my favorite entries in my journal, because that day was something special.

• Jimmy complimented my hair today. I didn't do anything different with it, so I wonder what caught his attention today. either way, something else amazing happened. I had a dream on the jet about Jimmy. we were on a boat, reading one of my favorite Carl Hiaasen books. rather, Jimmy was reading it to me while I rested my head in his lap, focusing on the way his lips moved. •

"this seems pretty cut and dry, a mass murderer like this can't stay hidden for long," Prentiss said in the conference room.

everyone was here, except for Garcia. we already knew the details of the case, it was all about planning our way through it now. so Reid, Rossi, Prentiss, Jareau, Morgan and I all sat around the table. 

"and since we have a lot of paperwork on that last case, we should focus most of our attention on that," Prentiss continued on, "so I want Morgan, Reid and (y/l/n) on the Lucky's Tavern case, and JJ, Rossi and I will continue the work on the last case."

"wonderful. a lose-lose situation," Rossi joked. 

he was even more of a jester than Morgan. however, I think it was the older man's liberal use of sarcasm that I enjoyed most. 

I, however, nodded, being stuck with my two favorite profilers wouldn't be a bad thing. Reid was overly serious at times, but Morgan balanced it out with his easy going manner. 

"we're really going to be burning the midnight oil with these," Prentiss added, starting to get up from her seat. 

"but I'm sure (y/f/n) won't mind, what with her obsession with coffee and all," Rossi chuckled: "I can't wait for the hallucinations from the sleep deprivation. her next journal entry will read: 'dear diary, just when I thought I heard it all.'"

I laughed. it was true, and that was one personality trait everyone on the team knew for certain about me. when I first started this job, I wouldn't touch coffee, but now I couldn't be without it. 

"I guess we'll start at the crime scene," Morgan said when Prentiss left the room with Jareau and Rossi.

"yeah, you guys can do that, I'll go to the M.E's office to see if I can find anything else," I offered up. 

putting some distance between Reid and I would guarentee that I could actually focus without slipping into a daydream every couple minutes.

~~~~~

with my crossbody purse slung over my shoulder, I stepped out of my car and headed into the office. I had a little notebook to take notes, but the notebook that really mattered was hidden away in there as well. it fit so perfectly in the bigger pocket, I was convinced it was made for my purse. I only trusted the contents of that journal to myself, so I opted to carry it around with me. if it was with me, then it was safe. 

I couldn't even trust it to be at my house when I wasn't there, something about leaving it unattended in any capacity made me uneasy.

and even when I had to, I never left my journal for long, even at Quantico. it's not that I didn't trust my team, it's that the words in my journal were outweighing my reasoning that said I should trust them. it was better safe than sorry.

"cause of death was two gunshots to the torso, same with the others," the doctor declared.

"all victims were shot twice?" 

"yes, does that mean anything?" he asked, curious.

"just that he wanted to make sure they would die. it's unlikely this is about terrorism, that's about hurting the most amount of people as possible. this was about these victims in particular."

the doctor nodded.

"anything else?" I inquired.

I would need all the information I could get, we had no leads so far.

"well, like what could be suspected, they had been drinking, but nothing else was out of the ordinary."

I was reminded of a time where Reid and I were in this room for another case that was happening here. I know I said I don't normally write during cases, but this was a special occasion I had to document in my journal as soon as possible.

it wasn't one of my proudest moments, as I realized halfway through I was starting to come off as weird, and even borderline insane, but that was just the type of behavior Reid brought out in me. 

• I never noticed how hard Jimmy studies the victims while we were talking to the M.E's. his furrowed brow, his very slight pout apparent as who knows what ran around in his mind. his ability to concentrate so much was amazing. the only thing I could study as long as he studied everything around him, was him. it made me a bit jealous of the bodies he examined. he would stare them down head to toe, as if daring them to tell him a secret. it made me wonder what secrets he could get out of me if he only halfheartedly tried. •

"okay, thanks," I half smiled at the doctor, my mind still on my secret Jimmy.

~~~~~

"I finished up early at the M.E's, I figured I would get over here to see how you guys are making out," I explained while I walked up to Reid and Morgan, who were still in the alleyway of the bar.

"we're not making out at all," Morgan teased, "we're on the job."

I rolled my eyes and started up a new conversation: "all victims had two shots, he wanted to make sure they were dead."

Reid was studying the blood patterns on the floor and wall.

I noticed them too and said: "I hope they'll be able to get the blood off without damaging that mural, I love street artwork."

"they were all are part of the same friend group, makes sense that the unsub might want to get rid of entire friendship circle," Reid contemplated, ignoring what I said.

"except one friend is missing," Morgan cut in, getting serious now.

"who?" I asked, this could be our best lead. 

"her name's Laura Kent, some witnesses say she's normally at the bar with them, and last night was no exception."

~~~~~

"I'm going to need medical," Reid spoke into his radio.

we arrived at Laura's, finding her address easily. 

we also found Laura easily, sprawled on her bed with pills on her bedside table. 

Reid picked up the bottle to examine and noted: "oxycontin, we may be too late."

Morgan shook his head: "someone could be pinning this on her and then trying to cover it up?"

"we can test her hand for gunshot residue, see if it was really her who finished off her friends," I said absentmindedly.

I was looking at something that was in her half open drawer in the bedside table.

"we weren't even closing in on her when this happened, I don't see the need for this," Morgan continued. 

"all we can do is continue on from here, using what we know," I said, grabbing the small leather-bound book from the drawer. it was definitely a small diary. 

"you can tell a lot from what a person writes about," Reid said, noticing what I had.

"obviously, people have a tendency to write their deepest secrets in something they think no one will ever see," I said, speaking from my own experience.

Reid stared at me, seemingly full of judgment as he stated: "that's why you can find out what a person is really like, if you search hard enough for where they keep their secrets."

I felt my stomach become hollow as I tried to piece together what he could possibly be talking about. there's no way he could have had a long enough opportunity to look into my journal, so I tried to convince myself that I was worrying over nothing, and he was just talking about Laura's secrets, and no one else's.

the last thing I wanted was to have to admit outloud what was already so hard for me to write down. 

I remember the day I finally willed myself to write it.

• I definitely think I'm in love with him. how contradicting, I know. "definitely" and "think." that might not even be proper grammar. but when he looked at me from across the conference table, to ask to see my file, because he spilt coffee on his, I knew. that I definitely think that I might be absolutely in love with Jimmy. •

~~~~~

the case was on the verge of being closed, as there was gunshot residue on Laura's hand, the same .44 under her bed, and great descriptions of how much she hated her friends, in her diary. Laura may not be alive to tell her side anymore, but it was certain from her diary that she was in love with a guy from her friend group, but another one of her friends had started dating him.

I kind of knew what that was like, but I could never bring myself to kill the center of my affection, and my affection's own adoration as well, no matter how jealous I was. 

at least, that's what I had tried to convince myself, especially that one time.

• she's married already, and she even has kids with her husband. JJ is off limits, and Jimmy knows that. so why do I feel a pit in my stomach that makes me want to throw up everytime I see the two of them talk about something other than a case? if this is how I am when he's around someone that's taken, how will I act when he finds someone who is not? •

tomorrow would be another paperwork day, added onto the fact that we now had another case to close up. I would have plenty of time to write in my journal, but there was still something I had to know about the specific topic of my writings. 

I really wasn't a confrontational person, but when I found myself alone with Reid in the elevator heading down to the parking lot, I had to know for sure what he was talking about.

"what did you mean earlier today?" I asked Reid innocently.

I stared at the elevator doors, not wanting to look at him.

if I did, I was afraid that my confidence would waver, and I would quickly say never mind. I would instead chose to stay blissfully ignorant to what was so obvious. that he had found a way to read my deepest secrets. 

just like he seemed to stay blissfully ignorant to how obviously I wanted him.

"I was just thinking," he started up, "a journal hides so many secrets, things that a person may not even want to admit to themselves or others, so they confine their thoughts to pieces of paper."

"that's all?" I prodded, trying not to sound hopeful. 

I tried to ignore all the memories of me just momentarily going to the bathroom, the vending machine, the coffee maker, all those times, where I left my purse, and therefore my lifeline to my fantasies about him, unattended and vulnerable.

"that's all," he concluded.

the elevator doors opened and I felt a new wave of oxygen enter my body. I hoped that really was all, and he wasn't just trying to save my dignity. I needed to know if I had any dignity left in his mind. 

"good chat," I curtly nodded as I started to leave the elevator.

he followed and we continued talking. 

"in fact, you would never believe the kind of stuff I write about," he added, walking alongside me to my car.

"oh?" I said, focusing on everything I had to control right now. 

my walking, for one. 

left, right, left, right, I repeated in my head. it was ridiculous how I could forget to walk when I was nervous. 

"yeah, most of it is planning the best date," Reid said.

I only half paid attention to what he said, as I started digging in my purse for my car keys. 

"that's great," I said, already planning a draft of what I would be writing later. 

"it took a lot of gathering of information, figuring out about her."

"mmm-hmm."

I finally found my keys, so I unlocked the car and got in.

"so will you get coffee with me sometime?"

I looked up at him for the first time since our conversation started.

I couldn't control the words out of my mouth, almost as if i was on autopilot: "okay, that sounds great."

he smiled his small smile and spoke again: "I already asked Emily to give us tomorrow off. meet me at Dave's Caffeine at eight?"

I nodded. there was no where else I'd rather be. I loved Dave's Caffeine. it was a mom and pop coffee shop with a big mural painted on the front of it, with another artwork across the street within eyesight of anywhere in the shop.

"I'll let you get home and write about this," Reid said in a quiet voice. I almost didn't hear it over the car's engine igniting as I turned the key. 

"excuse me?" 

"nothing."

shaking my head, I buckled my seatbelt and decided to end the conversation there, thinking he was just teasing about the journal: "I'll see you tomorrow."

but Reid was determined to get the final word in.

"You forget how fast Jimmy can read."


End file.
